“Wow, you look beautiful,” Reagan said as she slipped back into the room. Libby spun around from where she’d been digging in her makeup bag for lip gloss. The compliment warmed her cheeks, and she hoped the blush she’d applied covered most of the flush. “Thanks,” she replied, wanting to tell Reagan that she looked very attractive too, but was unsure how to formulate the words. “You too,” she added hastily. “I didn’t know you had tattoos.”
